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COI'^RIGHT DEPOSIT. 



TWENTY-ONE 



MULFORD DOUGHTY 




BOSTON 

THE GORHAM PRESS 

MDCMXVII 



Copyright, 1917, by Mulford Donffhty 

All Rirhts Reserved r\ X/^ 



^^^ 



MADB IN THB UNITED 8TATBS OF AME5RICA 



The Gorham Pbbsb, Boston, U. 9. A. 

NOV 22 1917 

©CLA479166 



^Ub^ 



MY FATHER 

To one who steadfastly through weary years 
Has kept his faith in all things good and true, 

May the days bring you gladness, dry all tears. 
My Father! How I love and honor you. 



CONTENTS 

Page 

The Witch 9 

The Aisne ^ ^ 

The Temple ^ ^ 

Somewhere in France I3 

A Woman's Part U 

The Balkans, 1912 ^5 

Fulfillment ^7 

Out of the Sea 18 

Spring ^9 

Echoes 20 

Night 21 

Sunset Gardens 22 

Twilight 23 

Dusk 24 

Visions 25 

War 26 

Nantucket 27 

1625 ^^ 

The Peddler 29 

Disillusion 30 

Song 31 

5 



TWENTY-ONE 



THE WITCH 

The things I do beneath the sun are what all men 

may show. 
The things I do beneath the moon a fiend alone 

may know. 

In the sweet fields where dead men lie in never end- 
ing rows, 
I go at noon of night to write a message to my foes. 

My pen is formed from dead men's bones and 

bravely it will write 
Of fools who perished, that a land might grow in 

strength and might. 

My ink the blood that from their veins has sodden 
all the earth. 

No crop will spring from that fell soil, but hope- 
less want and dearth. 

Only the Devil rules and he is strong to guard his 

own; 
For him I toil and laugh to see the strong men sob 

and moan. 

Never since Earth begot the race, has such great 
joy been mine ; 

On, on they come, an endless tide in that long bat- 
tle line. 



Soon the sun sinks behind the hills, the grim hills, 

stark and bare. 
Then comes the night. Oh I shall write, there's 

pen and ink to spare. 



10 



THE AISNE 
1913-1915 

We walked together by the shining river 
When twilight hours, the gray nuns of the day, 
Lingered about us with their benediction 
And the sweet flowers bent their heads to pray. 

We walked together by the sullen river 

The twilight hours, grim sentries of the night, 

Roared over us a ghastly vesper service 

For souls that perished since the dawn of light. 



IX 



THE TEMPLE 

There is a Temple grim 
The atmosphere is dim 

For the great altar smokes by night, by day. 
The mighty organ rolls 
The anthems for the souls 

Of men who briefly in that service stay. 

The sacrifice of blood 
Pours out a costly flood, 

The blood of youth, blood of the brave and fair. 
Oh, high and glorious fate 
Who in that Temple wait! 

In life, in death, a crown of bay will wear 



12 



SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE 

Song of a fair May morning 

When the sky is bluer than blue 

And the white clouds floating across it 

Seem almost too white to be true, 

When the air is sweet with clover, 

And hums with the busy bee, 

And across the gray salt marshes. 

The guns thunder out to the sea, 

And the dead lie in rows 

With their face to the foes 

Only a mile from me. 



13 



A WOMAN'S PART 

I am restless to-night and the house can not hold 
me, 
I go out on the terrace and look at the stars. 
How long is it, Love, since we stood here together 
And your arm held me close as you pointed out 
Mars? 

The red star of war rules the stars of the sky, 
The red god of war rules the kingdoms of earth. 

All day I have toiled at grim food for the guns, 
Bombs, dynamite, cartridges there is no dearth. 

You toil in the trenches, I toil in the shops. 
The two halves of the whole, we are winning the 
fight. 
But, Oh God, if once more I could feel your strong 
arms 
Hold mc close and the scorch of your lips through 
the night. 



H 



THE BALKANS, 1912 

Across blue sky, white clouds are drifting slow. 

I sit here in the garden drinking tea. 

A fresh breeze blows the green leaves to and fro, 

And melody of bird and hum of bee 

Are mingled with the sweetness of the air. 

All things about me are so fresh and fair. 

My mind dreams idly in this pleasant spot; 

Strange fancies come of ages long forgot. 

Clangor of arms and clash of steel I hear, 

And those who died full many years ago ; 

Behold I see them pass who know not fear. 

Brave knights ride by me, cased in flashing steel, 
Above their heads, strange banners whip the air, 
Ragged and torn from many a distant field. 
That once shone bright with gold and purple rare. 
And now with stern, unhappy faces come marching 

ranks of captive races; 
And as I gaze, my eyes are filled with tears. 
The martial music faints upon my ears. 
For far away, in lands forlorn. 
Women must weep and little children starve 
Amid the ruined fields of trampled corn. 



1-5 



The clouds have drifted far across the sky, 
And in the West a glorious sunset shines. 
Slowly the crimson fades before my eyes 
And all the air is sweet with vesper chimes; 
But as I leave this fair and haunted place 
And meet the present once more, face to face, 
I pray, O God of Nations, may thy car 
An emblem be of peace, and not of war. 
Load it with harvests of the yellow grain 
The crimson apple and the purple grape. 
And peace, a banner, float without a stain. 



i6 



FULFILLMENT 

My Love is coming to-night 

He is coming at last, My King. 

I must dress in robes of state, 

In a robe of satin, white as snow, 

In a mantle of velvet, the color, and glow 

Of the rose, when summer is late. 

He is coming to-night. My King. 

For this I have lived my life; 
All of the hours and the days 
When I toiled in the desolate ways, 
When youth called aloud in the strife. 

He is coming to-night. My King. 

His lips will be pressed to mine 
In a bridal kiss divine 
And in the fire of his eyes. 
The blue of the midnight skies. 
I will give him my heart at last 
Oh Death, My Lover, My King. 



17 



OUT OF THE SEA 

Out into the dusk of the winding lanes that lead to 
the old gray sea, 

Out into the purple twilight, for a voice is call- 
ing me. 

Not for me the flickering hearthfire, but the salt 
of the ocean foam. 

For a voice in the night wind's calling, calling to 
me alone. 

Up from the harbor rolls the fog, obscuring house 

and tree, 
And with it come the souls of men, and one is there 

for me. 
I can not choose but follow the voice that calls me 

on. 
For what to me are living men, when the one I love 

is gone? 

I can not choose but meet him, my Love from out 

the sea, 
And naught care I for mor?:al men, however brave 

they be. 
Out of the sea-mist calling, out of the ocean gray, 
Into the arms of my lover and the great waves of 

the Bay. 



i8 



SPRING 

The fires of the spring flame upward 

(Oh heart of my love) 

Crush me closer, yet closer, 

No gentleness of a dove) 

Thy flesh against mine, 

And to see in thy eyes the divine 

Light of passion and power and desire. 

May the grace of my face feed the fire 

(Oh love, let it glow) 

Forgotten all else in that light 

(Are the hours fast or slow?) 

To my softness, the strength and the might 

Of thy arms ; to my weakness, the sight 

Of the storm of thy love, sweeping low. 



19 



ECHOES 

Is it your voice that calls across the fields of shining 

asphodel ? 
Is it your voice I hear or the faint chime of distant 

bell? 
What is the message you would give to-day? 
(Oh hush, my heart, beat not so loud, I pray). 
What message for the one who loved you well? 

I listened and the soft winds stirred the leaves, 
Sadly they murmured like the voice of one who 

grieves. 
Afar on some green branch in moaning tone 
A purple wood-dove sang her song alone, 
And my heart ached for grief, again deceived. 



ao 



NIGHT 

I dreamed of you last night; I felt your hands, hot 
on my breast, 
Once more as in the days of old, I felt your 
strong caress; 
I saw again the passion in your eyes, the love and 
fire. 
And felt in that red light, the scorching touch of 
our desire. 

I woke; the night was black, and wild as deepest 
Hell: 
The great winds roared above the house like 
fiends, and the rains fell. 
Within that quiet room with me was one who slept 
in peace. 
And my whole soul cried out for Death to come 
with swift release. 



31 



SUNSET GARDENS 

The gardens of the western skies to-night 

Are gleaming bright, 

And ail the flowers of Heaven 

Are opening to the light. 

Upon the right a bed of roses 
Glows with a crimson flame, 
While up upon the northern border 
White clouds of lilies reign. 

Midway of this enchanted garden 
A small lake glimmers green, 
About the edge the golden primrose 
And purple iris lean. 

Softly the winds of twilight blowing 
Scatter the heavenly flowers, 
Drifts of golden and crimson petals 
Falling in rainbow showers. 

Changing, fading to pearl and silver 
Dissolved at last in the evening air. 
And where they vanished a star is shining 
Like a lost dewdrop, bright and fair. 



s» 



TWILIGHT 

The shadows of the evening come trooping through 

the pinewoods; 
Come peering, come creeping, along the shining 

floor; 
The soft gray shadows, the long gray shadows, 
Come gliding in among the trees when the bright 

day is o'er. 

The long gray aisles are lost in mist that drapes 

each stately column, 
And the plumed branches cease to wave, and silent 

droop above ; 
The thick black shadows, the great black shadows. 
Come thronging through the silent wood, as to a 

home they love. 



23 



DUSK 

The day is done, the sun is set, 
The purple dusk is dropping down. 
Above the little golden stars 
Reflect the bright lights of the town. 



24 



VISIONS 

Winds of the past are blowing through the pine 

woods, 
Echoes of days that were long years ago. 
The sun is sinking and the shadows lengthen, 
Dark shadows soft and slow. 

The light is dim, no longer glad and golden, 
For now the ghosts walk underneath the trees. 
Murmurs of voices asking and replying 
Faint as the evening breeze among the leaves. 

Wreathes of gray mist float silently about them. 
The twilight deepens from the marshes far 
And near; the frogs begin their evening chorus. 
Above unchanging shines a distant star. 



25 



WAR 

All day I lie upon the beach and watch 

The white battalions of the ocean charge, 

Rank behind thunderous rank. 

Upon my glowing cheek I feel the touch 

Of their salt banners hissing through the air; 

And in my ears resounds the martial tread 

Of that imperial army. 

Up the strand against the mighty fortress of the 

rocks, 
In vain they hurl their innumerable troops. 
No quarter given, or asked in this grim war 
That rages on until the end of time. 



26 



NANTUCKET 

The blue and gold are gone ; twilight is falling ; 

Through the soft dusk I hear far voices calling. 

Voices of women, and of men 

Who unseen walk the streets again. 

The gray fog rolls in from the sea 

Invades the town ; from tree to tree 

You can not see your way about 

So thick it is, no lights shine out. 

But still those plaintive voices whispering, calling 

Each unto each when the black night is falling, 

For that brief time the blind man's holiday 

Alone is theirs; in which once more to play 

The game of life, and in the crooked lanes 

Renew the memories of their joys and pains. 



37 



1625 

To stand on the desolate seacoast 

With the roar of the waves in my ears. 

To look northward or southward or westward 

But no human being appears. 

To live in this rude cabin 

Where in winter I freeze with the cold 

And in summer I faint from the blistering heat, 

And never again to behold 

The home I have left. 

Oh my heart breaks! 

It is rent with the longing and pain 

To walk once again in the garden, 

To pick the sweet flowers and hearken 

To the nightingale's longing refrain. 

Let the strong men who care not for trifles 

Come here to this desert alone. 

Let them storm against tyrants and priestcraft 

Let them argue of tables of stone. 

Shall I ever again see the table of oak in the old 

hall at home? 
Where at morning and noon and at nightfall 
We gathered with laughter and song? 
Never more shall I see it, Oh never behold, the 

green grass on the lawn. 
Or hear the sweet song of the skylark, 
WTien the fields shine with dew at the dawn. 



38 



THE PEDDLER 

To J. F. 

Sunrise, birdsong in the pleasant weather. 
Lightheart, lightfoot, take the Broad Highway 
Selling duster, broom, or brush to bonny lass or 

matron. 
Oh, it's very well to tramp along upon a summer 

day. 

But how about the evening when the sun's gone 

out? 
When birds are silent in their nests until another 

day. 
When long black shadows lurk about before you 

and behind, 
It's weary hearts and weary heels that trudge the 

Broad Highway. 



39 



DISILLUSION 

O child with your innocent eyes and your loving 

heart 
Ready with eager hands to open the door of life, 
Ready with fearless feet to tread the path of the 

years, 
What do you hope to find in a world of sorrow 
and strife? 

Do you think because you are young and happy and 

brave 
Do you think if your heart is pure, that sin will 

pass you by? 
Careless of other's failures, sure that for you there 

will be 
Love and strength and courage, do you not hear a 

cry? 

A cry of exceeding sorrow, a cry of a shattered 

dream ! 
Did you think, poor fool, that for you the rules of 

the world would be changed? 
Discard all love of beauty, tenderness, faith, and 

truth. 
Be hard and grasping and selfish, and the world will 

not seem strange. 



30^ 



SONG 

Some sing of life, its smiles, its tears, 

Sing of the sunshine gilding happy years, 

The flowers of pleasure with their fragrance sweet 

Make glad the way for their swift dancing feet. 

Some sing of Life. 

Some sing of Death, the lover whose embrace 
Is rapture beyond telling ; in whose face. 
Yearning above them with its shining light. 
Light of the stars draws them to sacred night. 
Some sing of Death. 



31 



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